He lived in a land of stones,
monoliths and totems
of silence, standing still,
marking time, space,
settled in their eruptions
like old trees.
He spent his days in work,
using his hands, his heart
to saw, sand, plane and fit,
much like an artist
uses colors, in silence,
to speak.
If he lived near the sea
he could listen to the waves.
To see other poems prompted by “lonely,” please visit the Warrior Poets Circle hosted by Jason Stayszen at
Connecting to Impact.
Photograph: Monument on Three Peaks by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI agree. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI could sense his isolation through these words.
ReplyDeleteI love the imagery of stones.
ReplyDeleteLovely, Glynn. I especially like "settled in their eruptions" and the two concluding lines.
ReplyDeleteOne wonders what stories the stones secret behind their hard surfaces.
Wow, Glynn. It's already been said, but 'beautiful.' Thanks so much.
ReplyDeleteand he lived misunderstood ...
ReplyDeleteJust terrific bro'!
ReplyDeleteIf the stones could speak.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful